


After the Rain

by DarkerThanGrey



Series: Demon Daddy's Orphanage [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aymeric de Borel is a nerd, F/M, Making Up, Post-Canon, Retirement, Sev is tired, Soha is either the greatest or the worst friend ever, let her rest, please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27461335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkerThanGrey/pseuds/DarkerThanGrey
Summary: Severen Arulaq, Warrior of Light and Darkness, has fought and ended every war, and finally delivered peace.She just wants peace for herself now, but a certain lord speaker cannot just let her walk away.She's tired. So, so tired.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: Demon Daddy's Orphanage [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006383
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	After the Rain

It was over. 

After 7 long years, she had finally done it. Delivered Eorzea from the brink of destruction, again and again, finally bringing peace through war with Garlemald.

The final battle had nearly killed her, but still, she stood.

Still, she stood.

* * *

She had meant to disappear, truth be told. Run before the world could find another burden to put on her shoulders. Fade into shadow, only Soha, G'raha, M’ahna, Suni, and Runar to know where she went. Maybe take up botany and alchemy once more, skills that had diminished from disuse over the campaign in Garlemald. Open up an apothecary shop somewhere. The thought filled her with a sort of… Contentment. After giving so many parts of herself away for the betterment of the world, was it truly selfish of her to want to disappear? So she would leave during the celebration as those who had not fought beside her rejoiced in the victory she had delivered to them. 

She had not intended for Aymeric to catch her.

They had spent a night together, years ago. It was ill-thought-out, a mistake on her part made in grief for Haurchefant. It was so like her, to repay over a year of kindness, patience, and love by sleeping with another man before his body was even cold. She had sworn to never mention it again. But then she had ended the war, saved Estinien, and there was but the smallest inkling of a feeling. A hand resting against her own, helping to pull those infernal eyes off of the Dragoon. For but a single moment, she had seen two figures smile before turning to walk away. It felt like a sort of closure. 

And then… Aymeric had asked for… A date.

It had felt wrong. Sleeping with him while hung upon a dead man, giving no further mention of the incident… Then showing up to his manor for a one on one dinner? 

Gods, what had she become?

Still, she went. It was nice. It was content. Conversation flowed like the wine she could not bring herself to drink. (She did trust him, truly. But Nanamo’s wide eyes and the barmaid’s croon would not leave her mind. It was safer this way.) Aymeric, graciously, said nothing about her full goblet. Instead, they spoke of her adventures and of her homeland. The Azim Steppe was far away, the village of the Arulaq tribe even further. And then- And then. For the first time in however long she could remember, she was asked what  _ she _ wanted. It had taken her off guard, to be asked such a thing.  _ To be done with this. To see my sisters. To be able to drink anything that I did not bring myself. To redo the past year and change. To kiss you.  _

Of course, she voiced none of these thoughts. He was an Elezen of status, she was a foreign woman with demons in her blood. Her trauma was her own. It would be a betrayal. She was fine, anyway. So what if she refused to cut her hair because of the words of a man dead and buried?

She settled on the words that would be most appropriate. A simple answer of rest and a shopping trip for silly, feminine clothing that would hold no purpose outside looking pretty. 

Of course, even those words were stolen from her lips by the arrival of yet another soul needing her aid. 

Now, after all was over, as she had finally,  **_finally_ ** been walking away, linkpearl crushed into the barren dirt, recognizable casting robes replaced with the skirts and blouses she would always prefer and a cloak for travel, the voice of a leader stopped her in her tracks once more.  _ Nhaama, please no more.  _

“Warrior of Light. I had hoped to speak with you before the celebrations concluded.”

Oh.

Aymeric de Borel stood behind her. As she turned, she steeled herself. It was always Warrior of Light. At what point had she stopped being just Severen to those from Ishgard? At what point had even that home been lost? 

“Lord Speaker. How may I serve?” The words tasted like ash on her tongue. He seemed to cringe at the use of his title, holding in a breath before exhaling it slowly.

“None of that, please. I had wondered what your next duties are to be. There is still much and more to be done, and I had but wondered-” She did not know what possessed her to do so, but she cut him off.

“I have no further duties. I will be leaving soon, most likely retiring indefinitely.” He startled at her outburst, opening his mouth to object-

“Aymeric, I have a daughter. I have not seen her in over a year. I will not be staying to clean up after the Alliance when I could be home with her.” His eyes widened. 

“You have a child? She is not…-” Did he really…? 

“Is she yours?” She forced out a singular, harsh laugh at his ashamed nod.

“I adopted her 2 years ago after the Scions returned. A Raen on the streets of Kugane, cornered by those who would use a young girl for their own ends. No, she is not yours. She is not even mine.”

“Forgive me. I had presumed-”

“Everyone always presumes something about me. Whether it be what I want, what I will do, or who I will follow blindly. It is nothing new.” He stared at her with wide eyes, Unrecognizing the changed woman in front of her. 

“Severen, what has become of you?” The question made her pause. What had become of her, indeed.

“What has become of me… I grew disillusioned with those who would use me for their own ends. I fought your wars. I delivered you your peace. Is it so much to want my own now?” He looked at her but failed to see what was right in front of him. He stepped forward, stepped closer. He took her hands into his and looked into her eyes.

“Severen, will you come back to Ishgard with me? I want you for my wife. I have been utterly smitten since before the Dragonsong War’s end. If you return, you will want for nothing. You and your daughter will live under my protection. No more wars to fight, nothing asked of you.”

He might as well have spat in her face.

“Aymeric… No. No you can’t ask that of me now… Not after the years have passed and you made yourself very clear that I would get no help from you.”

“All the same, I would. I should have said it years ago. I never should have let you go.” 

Maybe it would have been different, back then. At that dinner when everything was starting to feel right again. Before her roots had turned white and overtaken her formerly dark locks. The one thing left she had in common with her parents and her sisters. At the table where he had asked her what she herself wanted.

But then had turned away when she had looked to him for help after Papalymo was dead and she was off to fight yet another war.

“No, Aymeric. What we had is years dead, and you made your choice after Baelsar’s Wall. It’s done. I’m done.”

He walked away that night with a dejected look accompanied by one of his horrified understanding.

Severen Arulaq disappeared that night without a trace. Her home in the Lavender Beds was cleared out the next day, and every time one of her closest friends were asked where she had gone, it was always met with the same answer. They would not tell. She was retired. They would not burden her further.

So it was for 2 years.

* * *

“Mistress Uyagir, please. It has been so long, I must speak with her!” Even two years later, Aymeric could not give up. Search parties had scoured the land, even Hien chipping in for Doma. Was she in Garlemald? Had she returned to the Steppe? He had summoned her closest friend to his office, having heard she was in Ishgard with her bond-mate and son. 

“Hmm… Nah. You and your lot have done enough to her.” Aymeric nearly cursed under his breath, receiving the same answer over the years.

“I only wish to apologize! I would scour the world myself for her if I must!” He pleaded, eyes searching in the much shorter Xaela’s gaze for any sign of pity.

There. He doubled down. “I am still in love, Mistress Uyagir. Even if I cannot stand by her side, I wish to atone.” She looked away, violet gaze growing shadowed and angry.

“And you think loving a memory is what she needs!? You and yours nearly killed her!”

“I KNOW!” She paused at his outburst. Opening her mouth before closing it, searching for the words to say, before breathing out a heavy, suffering sight.

“If I tell you, you must promise that you will not go. Only a letter. Your physical presence would prove... complicated and only serve to put pressure on her.” The look on his face was akin to that of a puppy. An odd look for a man of nearly 35 summers with as much power as he had, to be sure. 

“Of course. Anything.”

“She lives in a small town to the northeast of Fallgourd Float in the Shroud. Your messenger will be looking for the florist with the odd daughter.” 

“I cannot thank you enough, Mistress Uyagir.” She huffed out a laugh, turning to walk out.

“You had best! She’ll probably light me on fire for telling you. Next time, try not to strongarm people into getting your way. It’s not a good look.” With that she disappeared from his office. Immediately, he began penning letters. Not only to her, but to several other people.

* * *

Hyrst wasn’t the ideal place to raise a child, but they had made do. A flower shop and cottage. The tools of an apothecary, something the town had lacked. Commissioned with gil from her past, the cottage had gone up 2 years ago for the florist and her daughter. Since then, they had become a staple of the community. 

Rena liked the other kids. They were nice, and didn’t see her red hair and eyes as a bad omen. They were exotic and pretty here. Here, she didn’t have to be Akane or the demon-child of Sui-no-Sato. The Ruby Princess had red hair, didn’t she? And she was pretty. Her village must have just been foolish. She didn’t get why Momma glamoured away their scales and horns, making them look like hyurs from Othard and Ala Mhigo respectively, what with Momma's dark skin, but she liked walking around without the stares of people who wanted her to work for them. Her momma before she was her momma had scared off the men who must have been bad. Her momma was just good like that. When she scratched at her neck or wrists because her skin didn’t feel right or when she didn’t recognize her hands, she was right beside her. When Aunt Soha came over with Uncle G’raha it was even better. The glamors came off and she got to play with cousin M’ahna. She liked M’ahna. But, she didn’t like it when Momma looked off into the distance like she was somewhere far away. 

A man had come by their home earlier that day, handing Rena a letter to give to her momma. It had been sealed with pretty blue wax, but Momma had reacted to the letter like the sight of it was enough to make her sick like the people who came to the shop for medicine or to call her mother to go heal. Momma had opened it and finished reading it what seemed like hours ago, but she hadn’t moved from her spot. Even when Rena had come and curled up against her, she had barely noticed enough to put her arm around her. It was hard for the both of them, but together they made do.

There was a cacophony of thoughts roiling in Severen’s head.  _ How did they find her? Why did he contact her? Would she have to move? What of Rena? Gods, what do I do? _

It took every bit of her willpower to stay coherent. Stay in the present. Not dwell on the scars that dotted her body or the callouses on her hands from years of non-stop battle. 

_ My dearest, Mistress Arulaq,  _

_ I must apologize for my inaction and perpetuation of your own unhappiness. During these past two years, I have had ample time to consider the repercussions of my actions and words.  _

_ You were right. I failed you, the one woman who stood up for us all even when we gave nothing in return. We all failed you.  _

_ So it is now that I apologize to you wholeheartedly, as much so as can be done through text. Were I permitted to be by your side I would neel afore you as any alter to Halone and beg for your forgiveness.  _

_ All the same, I realize that mine attentions are unwelcome. Instead, I offer this: formal apologies from every leader of the alliance. Even lord Hien. They should arrive from the same messenger in the coming days. I wish you well, Severen. Not the Warrior of Light, you.  _

__

_ Sincerely,  _

_ Aymeric de Borel _

_ I must add, please thank Mistress Uyagir once more for her help. _

Of course it was Soha. 

**Author's Note:**

> Severen is the main Warrior of Light, and is best friends with Soha Uyagir, also chosen by the mother crystal. Soha is bonded to G'raha, and adopted a cute catboi named M'ahna.  
> Sev adopted Akane, now Rena after finding her on the streets of Kugane about to be kidnapped. Rena has depersonalization.
> 
> Anyway, I don't talk in the book club much, but they're all darlings. Go join them if you like FFXIV, thirsty people, and fanfiction. https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic


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